To The North, the warm-up RP Options

[Darkness Eternal]

The Imperial was slighty taken aback at her open invitation. She barely even tried to contain her intentions. The manner in which she flicked her blond hair aside, the gentle biting of the lips, the longing gaze and the sweet words absolutely dripping with honey. Any man could be swayed by a young lass with a lecherous knack for being overly lascivious.

He felt himself swallowing hard at the sight. It has been awhile since I've felt the proper touch of a woman, he thought joyously. Perhaps...perhaps tonight I can oblige.He heard as she meekly showed herself as a humble servant attending the needs of her patrons. From her comment about reffering to as 'my lord', he understood that she knew he had title of of a wealthy nobleman, or a fellow of upstanding reputation. He also noticed how she chose to outright assume that no one else required anything to drink or eat. She excused herself, having Vaultren stare at her from the distance as she departed to the rooms.

Hearing Alvara speak to Kogobal, the former tribune only assumed that she was more interested in hearing from him. Of course, he couldn't blame her. He allowed his distaste of the Thalmor to show, spooking everyone else. But he hoped he could rectify his previous error, perhaps even form an alliance with both of them. Yes, there was plenty he could learn from the Altmer. To his advantage, there were two. Knowledge from the mage, and a more intimate relation with the lass. Making a poor excuse, which he was aware of, he stood from his seat to adress both of them.

"I must retire for the night, the lack of sleep is truly catching up to me. I am exsausted." he dropped a tip atop of the counter, trying to see if he could find the girl again. He looked over at the corner, but she was already gone. He returned a stare at Kogobal and Alvara, bowing slightly.

"It has been a true pleasure. I am quite happy that I have met both of you. Perhaps we can change to schedule and depart first thing in the morning? I was never fond of traveling during the day for the sole reason of arriving at night, which by the time I am tired. Though I trust you both shall keep bordom at bay, yes? It will keep the hours nore exciting."

With that said, he left to perhaps try his "luck" as some would call it. He was too interested in this young woman, perhaps she could be worth his time.

[jack cloudy]

Kogobal

One of the waitresses asked them if they needed anything. His glass was nearly empty and his throat still a bit parched. But before he could order anything, Arvala asked him something.
“A scholar?” He repeated the question and glanced at his glass. Vaultren seemed to be keeping the lass busy, so in the end Kogobal decided to answer Arvala’s interest first.

“I’m not sure if I would call myself such. I don’t have an expansive library, or a lab or even a definite plan of inquiry. If I’d call myself anything, I’d title myself as a developer of translocation magic. I do have an interest in the gods though, a simple one. I want to meet them.” He smiled and theatrically waved his hand in an all-encompassing gesture as he continued.
“Temples to the Aedra, discreet sites of Daedra-worship in the wilderness, wayshrines for the Divines along the roads. So many prayers are directed at them, so many things attributed to their influence. But is there actual prove of their interactions with us mortals? We talk about heroes sent by them, but could that not just be a lucky man taking credit for coincidence and the hard work of many? When exactly has an Aedra, a Divine or a Daedra actually walked down the street and said “Here I am?” Well, except for the Daedra of course. They proved their existence well enough and look where that brought us.”

He emptied his glass and then looked up for the waitress.
“Ah yes, another applejuice please….Oh, gone already?” He looked left and right, but there was no server nearby. The Imperial had left as well. So with a shrug, he returned to the subject of their conversation.

“I say that I want to meet the gods, see if they’re real. But to be honest, I’m practically terrified of finding them. If I have to make my mark on history, I’d rather it not be as the fool who unleashed a second Oblivion crisis, just because he wanted to see if Dagon really had four arms. Or see someone else become that fool. I hope its nothing but bluffing going on in Skyrim, but I can’t discount the possibility of there being a new Mythic Dawn or a similar cult.” He drifted off into silence. He desperately wanted to believe that his gods were waiting for him in Skyrim. But his mind said with cold logic that finding a new cult of suicidal world-ending madmen was more likely.

He did not see himself as a hero, or even someone who would want to be one. But if his worst fears came true, he would go to the proper authorities to put a stop to it.


OOC: Did Kogobal get Vaultren's name? I don't remember but I think he didn't.

[Darkness Eternal]

OOC: No, he did not. And how do you guys feel of a time skip? Maybe to the following morning?

[Uleni Athram]

OOC: I vote for that. The adrenaline-junky needs to wake. I wanna use him again, LOIKE SERIOUSLEY.

[Colonel Mustard]

OOC: A timeskip sounds fine for me. We've hit a potential lull in conversation so I'll send Alvara off for a kip and start things again in the morning.

IC: Alvara nodded at his explanation, before she said; "I can't say I've met somebody with the ambition of meeting the gods in person before. It certainly sounds like an interesting goal, and a subject worth investigating."

She yawned, blinking as she began to feel heaviness weighing on her eyes, no doubt the effect of her day of travelling and covered her mouth before she said; "I'm sorry, Kogobal, but I think we might have to continue this conversation in the morning; I've been travelling all day, and I think it's finally beginning to catch up on me."

She picked up the bag she used to carry her things and nodded to both Kogobal and Vaultren.

"I'll meet you both in the morning," she said. "But now I really need to get some sleep."

[jack cloudy]

Kogobal

"Of course. Have a good night, lady. I shall seek out my own room as soon as it quiets down here." Kogobal said to Alvara and bid her farewell.

Though Kogobal found the room he had been given to be satisfying, he got only little rest that night.
He couldn't help but keep worrying. About Vaultren, who despite seeming innocent enough, kept that hint of trouble. And there was Skyrim. Skyrim that called for him.
"And I'm not the only one who seeks the Tribunal. With stories as loud as these, the Loyal will send someone to investigate. I'm supposed to be dead and can expect no mercy or patience from them."


As he couldn't sleep, he got up sooner than planned. The following morning Kogobal sat by a window, enjoying an early breakfast and wondering if he had enough money to take him to Skyrim or if he would have to find some source of income. It mostly depended on the desires of his traveling companions, he realized.

[Darkness Eternal]

OOC:Ah, this is a post of the weird and semi-creepy Vaultren about to leave. You guys can catch up to him on the road or something later. I got stuff to do in real life, so I just thought I'd make this post to get the ball rolling.

Vaultren cleaned his face in the wash basin of his rented chambers. After a thorough scrub and a gently pat on each side, he stared at himself in the mirror. A smug grin on his face. In the silence of his room, as the young Altmer wench slumbered on his bed, the Imperial pulled up his undergarments and placed on a shirt over his body. Indeed, it was a wonderful night. He had released all of his carnal desires and the sleep finally had given him the rest he was seeking. What man wouldn't be delighted at having a female to warm his body during a cold night? Only the insane, surely. The more he looked upon his own face, the more he realized. I am truly handsome, am I not? His slightly amber eyes, his pinkish white skin, and his unblemished face was surely a sight to behold. He admitted to himself in pride.

And as always, he overstayed his welcome. And so he silently began preparing his personal belongings, doing his best not to awaken anyone nearby. He slid his pants onto his legs and his waist, buttoning them up. He retrieved his sabre from under his bed, slightly sliding it toward him. Later, he clothed his feet with his black boots in preparation of the travel he was going to undertake. As he proceeded to sneak past the bed, he gazed at the saucy tavern wench once more, smiling as she was tucked away in the soft and thin sheets. He remembered the moments he shared with her when she lured him into the room, and the wonderful night they had right after. If only it was that Alvara woman, she is beautiful as well, Vaultren reminded himself. But this girl was younger and far more lively in the more intimate activities.

Before he left his chambers, he leaned over to her as she slept. He closed his eyes, kissing her gently on her naked thigh and her neck. His hand slowly caressing her hair. "Sleep well."

Smiling in satisfaction, he left his room, leaving the girl behind. He felt he would be blamed for leaving without saying goodbye, but if Alvara or Kogobal were still around, the Altmer could explain why. His schedule was tight and he was always traveling. He had no time to remain behind and chat. He wanted to bring Alvara along with him, but he had to leave. Kogobal could keep her company. He felt the Altmer distrusted him for some reason. But he did not care, not one ever trusted an Imperial in these times.

As he slipped out of his room, he slightly closed the door behind him. The tavern was dark and silent, save for the flickering of the candles in the corridor and the creaking of the floorboards. He stepped into the main lobby, the twilight hours still upon the land. It was still dark, but a small speck of light was seen in the distant horizon, telling him it would be a good time to leave. Perhaps he would reach the Jerall mountains in the afternoon. He hoped so. He would want to be in Skyrim as soon as he could.

He walked off past the bartender to reach the exit, but he heard the proprietor call out to him. "Did you enjoy your night? You looked upset yesterday. You did not drink as the others did."

Vaultren stopped, turning to the man. Why is he up in these late hours?Indeed. It was a wonderful night. It will keep me wide awake on my travels. I am not much of a heavy drinker of alcohol."

The innkeeper fixed a curious stare at Vaultren, a suspicious gaze. The Imperial could only smile. He must of guessed what transpired between me and the lass, or he merely does not not trust me either, Vaultren notified himself.

The Imperial approached the counter, staring intensely at the man. His eyes fell to the bowl sitting atop of the counter, holding a few fresh apples. He pointed his finger to one. "These are free?"

"They are for sale," the Dunmer said, keeping his expression. "But for you, I'll make an exception. You paid good coin these past days. I will not burden with the sale of a fruit. You need more energy for your travels anyway."

Vaultren smirked, averting his gaze from the green fruit. "Gratitude."

"Plenty of women out there, Imperial. Did you not enjoy the company of our wenches? I saw you, last night. Trying to seduce that Dunmer woman." He did laugh a bit this time, showing Vaultren that his initial mistrust finally was replaced with a mutual, less tense, conversation. But he was not convinced.

Vaultren leaned on the side of the pillar with his elbow, his hand hanging near his head as he replied. "In these times, friend, even the opposite gender can be dangerous. Females in general can be a handful."

"Women who appear a certain manner, they..." Vaultren's hand curled to a fist beneath his mouth as if he was going to cough. But rather, he muffled a chuckle. His eyes kept darting to the side, not directly staring at the proprietor. The corners of his mouth expanding on each sides to form a charming, yet sarcastic smile. In the process, he adopted a more serious tone and a more careful stare. "They need to be controlled."

The proprietor kept held his tongue, partially intrigued by the Imperial. But before he could respond, Vaultren took control of the conversation once more. "Women should be the least of your concerns, friend. I should not warn you of the Thalmor out there."

Vaultren looked about, back and forth, left and right. His eyes jumping to the side of his face as he gazed all over suspiciously from time to time, as if he was tryng to make a point about being cautious. He suddenly nodded. "You don't mind my saying, but you have much on your shoulders for proprietor. You don't see it, or perhaps you do but...there is more to just bartending. Especially in these strange times with the Dominion out there. Everyone has to look out for their own necks."

There was a silence lingering about. Vaultren regarded the middle-aged Dunmer with a prolonged stare. His eyes slowly squinting, as if trying to discern something. In the end, they widened a bit as Vaultren picked up the green apple without staring at it. He took a large bite out of the fruit, smiling without showing his teeth. He winked at the innkeeper right before he departed. "Thanks for the apple."

[Uleni Athram]

During his stay at the Oak and Crosier, Celdryn established a firm alliance with the kitchen staff. He gives them money or song (the latter being more preferred), he gets a free meal, and the two parties are hush-hush about it. Tal'Hiro valued money really really bad, and didn't appreciate deals behind his back. Besides, Celdryn liked the chef too much to endanger her job. Maybe getting a little old and brittle, but she still has that warm spark in her eyes. That familliar warm eyes that could only come from a mother. Today's price, Celdryn guessed, would be a final song. The hangover of the night before had been vanished with a potion Celdryn kept in reserve; since then he has been playing around with his mind about the lyrics of the farewell lullaby. With soundless footsteps, he descended the wooden stairs and immediately went still, foot paused in mid-step. Tal'Jhiro had his back turned and was cleaning up yesterday's mess with more force than was necessary, and he was probably pissed off to concentrate on anything else, but the Khajiiti had demon ears.

Fortunately, however, there sat the elf Kogobal and Celdryn decided that the cat's anger would be hidden in a veneer of trash-cleaning irritation; after all, it wouldn't really help the reputation of your establishment if you looked ready to kill someone horribly while simply cleaning the mess of the earlier night. So with this in mind, Celdryn straightened up his posture, resumed his descend and confidently sauntered towards Kogobal, paying Tal'Jhiro (and his death glare) little heed. Sitting him himself like he had every right to be there, and plastering a smile on his face, Celdryn took the first blow in the temporary small talk he planned before going to the kitchen.

"So, sir Kogobal, I see you are the first among the sleepers to rise." He gave his current smile a rueful aura. "I suppose that is to be expected, since you didn't quaff any strong beverages. Altmeri tongue not really mixing with the common taste?" Here he laughed to soften the blow if Kogobal took offense at the jibe. It is universally acknoledged (at least, Celdryn thought so) that a High Elf drinking with nords, or any other mortal for that matter, is as rare as veins of ebony outside Morrowind; after all, that could essentially be summed up as a member of race, so haughty and perfection-seekers to commit infanticide on 'flawed' infants, lowering himself with the supposed 'lesser' races and engage with them most of the high elves consider barbaric; quaffing.

Celdryn saw that even though Kogobal is a member of that race, and the open-minded minority of it, he still had some 'standards' to keep. And apparently, quaffing wasn't one of them. The breton gave a mental shrug. Wasn't suprised really.

What did suprise him and potentially the whole establishment was the blood-curdling shriek of a woman.

Sudden was the sonic attack, Celdryn flinched and instinctively reached for his orcish dagger, the oricalchum metal warm in his hands. The scream came from the upper quarters, said instincts told him. He rose from his chair, joyously but shamefully aware that adrenaline was beginning to rage in his veins. He took cautionary steps wherfe Tal'Jhiro simply decided to jog. When the cat entered the offending room and vanished in its innards, there came another horrified scream.

Celdryn followed them with haste.

Entered the room where the scream resonated.

Saw the room-cleaner, good old Gertrude, her warm eyes now enlarged and dilated, fear constricting her already uneven breathing, knelt beside an open door where darkness dwelt.

Saw Tal'Jhiro, whiter than an albino Khajiit, clutching a nearby table with strength born from ... What? What is going on? What happened?

The door to the room is open. Darkness inside. Beckoning with shadows that moved, even though there is light outside. Beckoning with its shadows that swayed for Celdryn to enter...

Enter.

Enter he did. Knife in hand. Heart beating outrageously. A slow smile carving its way on his face.

A full grin as he entered fully. Looked around for the source of the scream.

Found... it. On the bed.

His smile vanishing. Eyes that widened in anxiety and in battle-thrill now widened in disgust and horror.

There. The form of a woman,

Her visage torn asunder. Neck slashed in spiteful sizes. Bones in unnatural angles.

Blood everywhere. Everwhere.

The form of a woman, fully destroyed not by man, but by something demonic. Something so hateful.

Celdryn looked at Sasfiel's remains, and resisted the urge to heave. Blood embraced everything, but the immaculate body, no matter how rent it is, is easily indentifiable to belonging to Sasfiel. Nasuea, along with it the vanished hang-over and other assorted head-pains, threatened to return. He exiled himself from the room- no, that slaughterroom, and sat beside Getrtrude, took comfort that she was not harmed by whatever madman attacked in the night. He gave her shoulder his hand, and as he tried to sooth her with his voice, he noticed that in her trembling, wrinkled hands, she held a bloody pouch.

The late Sasfiel's pouch.

Celdryn's stay at the Oak and Crosier was not long, but long enough to know that the elven wench Sasfiel was a bedfellow to all but the chaste in Chorrol, and that she valued her pouch, this pouch now in Gertrude's hands, for some reason that Celdryn cannot fathom. At first, he assumed that it was of sentimental value. But looking at the words and contents of the papers Sasfiel protected from everybody.... He guessed that Gertrude screamed because of it rather than the rent corpse of the wench.

Gingerly, with the grace of a thief, he relieved the old woman of the paper and rose to the light to read it. Igmored the Khajiit's loud call for the guards and the dunmeri healer and read, fascinated and trapped in a morbid trance.

His face turned white.

"... assassinate the former Penitus Oculatus, he who now goes by the name of Vaultren, and finally neutralize the threat he will definitely pose in the future."

This is beyond Celdryn's ken. A war, a shadow war of the Great War, still rages after 30 years. And with the horrible revelation that the Thalmor's memories are not only long, but also merciless to those they suspect of being a threat, or associated with said threat... Well.

He let the signed writ of assassination for a man he conversed with earlier and ran straight to his room.

This post has been edited by Uleni Athram: May 2 2012, 06:35 AM

[Colonel Mustard]

Alvara woke a little later than she had originally intended, tired body readily taking to the comfortable straw-stuffed mattress that she slept on. As such, she rose both well-rested and a little tardy, pulled on her clothes and headed down to the inn's main room for breakfast.

It was a great deal quieter than it was the night before when she got there, though there was the lingering smell of sweat, stale alcohol and vomit and a member of its staff swabbing the floor with the grim determination of the damned.

She spied the bard who had been performing last night conversing with Kogobal over something, and changed course from the counter where she planned to order breakfast in order to wish them both a good morning.

She got halfway across the floor when the scream stopped her.

The breton was up the stairs first, with something approaching an eager grin on his face, and Alvara followed a moment later, somewhat slower and more cautious in her approach. She called on the somewhat mediocre destructive talent she possessed as she made her way up the stairs, just in case whatever it was that caused that scream was still prepared to strike again, taking comfort from the pins and needles sensation of the lightning spell she had summoned crackling in her fingertips.

There was already a crowd forming at a doorway, and Alvara released the hold on her magic she was maintaining as she saw it, instead pushing her way to the front of it. She gave a grimace of distaste as she saw the grisly spectacle before her, before shaking her head and muttering; "Azura's tits, this isn't good."

[jack cloudy]

Kogobal

As he was enjoying his breakfast, the scarfaced bard from last night came up to his table.
"Good morning, sir Minan'Kherus. Have a seat, please." The Altmer said to him with a nod. Celdryn did so, then made a verbal jab, linking his early rising to a lack of drink.
"Oh, it's not that I dislike drinking, although this mead stuff is a tad too sticky for my palate. It's the hangovers I dislike, though it seems that you are not threatened by that infliction."

He wanted to say more but the words died on his tongue at the sudden scream. In the time it took for Kogobal to rise from his seat, Celdryn had already leaped up and flown to the stairs. He slowed down at that point but determinedly ventured upstairs anyhow. Kogobal slowly walked to the stairs himself, unsure of what to do.
"Whatever it is, I'll probably be the one to take the blame. As if I could summon rats." He muttered to himself but then shook his head. That scream had not been the type one used upon encountering rats, no matter how phobic one might be.

He looked over his shoulder where his staff and pack lay at the table, seemingly forgotten. With a mental pull, he drew both towards him as he continued up the stairs. Neither would be much use to him in a fight but he wasn't going to let his possessions leave his sight. A small crowd had formed on the upper level, including the lady Alvara and the Khajitti host. No sign of the Imperial though, which Kogobal did find a bit odd. Hadn't the man promised to be here in the morning? There was no way anyone of sound hearing could have slept through that noise.

"Excuse me, may I pass?" He said to a few faceless patrons as he worked his way through the crowd to the front where Alvara and Celdryn were.
"What happened here?" He asked them and looked in the room. Though it was hard for an Altmer's skin to become white as snow, his made a valiant effort upon seeing the macabre spectacle.
"ALMSIVI keep us." He whispered in horror.
"Whoever did this...is beyond insanity." He added then.

He couldn't watch this, not without going insane himself or releasing his breakfast onto his feet. His eyes instead wandered, trying to find anything that did not set off his disgust. They swept across an old lady, weeping in agony, across Tal'Jhiro, calling for the guards and a healer, even though it was clearly too late for both. He looked at Celdryn again, who was reading a letter. Without warning, the man dropped the piece of paper and smashed his way through the crowd. Kogobal was almost pushed off his feet by the smaller man, but his staff stuck in a gap between the floorboards and let him hold on.

Not knowing what else to do and still unwilling to look upon the corpse, Kogobal picked up the letter and held it up to his eyes.
"Oh, no. This is definitely not good. Vaultren, Penitus Oculatus...assassination?" He did not know the meaning of the words Penitus Oculatus, but the wording on the paper made it obvious that it was an organization someone preferred to see destroyed. This woman had been the intended harbinger of death, but had found her own grissly end instead. Presumably it was this Vaultren who had slain her then. The only two questions were, who was Vaultren and who had commanded his death?

He looked up from the letter, at Tal'Jhiro who was still screaming out of a window for the guards. Shaking his head, Kogobal pulled at one of Alvara's sleeves.
"Please come with me for a moment." He said as he made for the stairs. He did not want to be here when the guards came in. For one, he would probably take the blame and have to make a exit of the magical kind. For another, He had no interest in getting involved in a dangerous powerstruggle. He thought it best to get outside.

[Colonel Mustard]

Alvara had seen some grim sights in her time as a healer, and had helped more than a few of the lethally wounded pass awayin their time. She'd been elbow-deep in the guts of others before, when a sword blade or axe head had split open or stomach or a skull, but even she found the sight before her nauseating. She shook her head after a moment, more to look away than anything else; even someone who wasn't a healer could tell that there was nothing whatsoever that she could do.

She noticed vaguely that Kogobal had picked up a piece of paper lying on the floor, the Altmer having come up there along with her, and reading it with an expression of shocked horror. She caught a snatch of the words 'Penitus Oculatus' and 'assassination', and considering that Vaultren had been the last one with her...

She shivered at the thought that the person she had taken for a travelling companion may well have been the one responsible for this atrocity.

Alvara felt a tug at her sleeve, and glanced over to see Kogobal ask; "Please come with me for a moment."

"Of course," she nodded in reply, seeing his gaze shift towards the stairs. No doubt he wanted to leave before the watch arrived, and that was fair enough. "One minute."

She hurried away to her room, grabbing her pack and staff, quietly thanking her luck that she had the presence of mind to leave most of her possessions packed. In less than a minute, she had her things readied, and hurried to where Kogobal was waiting.

"Let's go."

[jack cloudy]

Kogobal

Kogobal was glad Alvara consented without asking for an explanation or wasting time. He was even more glad when they'd made it out of the tavern and into an alley just before the guards came running. Silently he offered a prayer to the Tribunal in gratitude for the tardy response of the sleepy guardsmen and the preoccupied taverners who'd failed to see them leave.

"I suppose I should explain why I pulled you out of there so quickly. It is simple, or so I think myself. In situations like these the locals will always want to point the accusing finger at the unknown. Better to blame a stranger than face the darkness in the hearts of their neighbours. You and I are the strangers in this case. Possibly some others as well, but I arrived here just yesterday and don't know who it might be. Now I know that I did not murder the poor lass and I'm pretty convinced you aren't responsible either, but no one would listen. Not now at least." He started talking, half tripping over the words. Taking a deep breath, he showed her the paper he still clutched in his hands.

"I forgot I had this, but I think its for the best I didn't leave it for the guards to find. Go ahead and take a look. Assuming this letter is genuine, it seems likely our ah...victim was to kill someone named Vaultren. Obviously it didn't work out that way. Vaultren is not an Altmeri name and the letter specifically mentioned a man. Regardless, if the guard found that and then heard I was at the establishment, they'll come looking for me next as a second assassin working with her. Then someone will remember me talking to you the night before and on the pebble rolls."

He leaned around the corner to check upon the tavern. More guardsmen were arriving now and began to cordon off the site. No one had come out yet though, something for which he was grateful. It meant their sudden departure hadn't been revealed to the guards yet.
"Of course, I'm not the only one who read it. Sir Minan'Kherus did before me and who knows who else. So I think it's best if we got out of the city right now. I for one would rather not get caught in the middle of a powerstruggle between two opposing groups. It's a shame we can't inform the Imperial of last night but I didn't see him in the tavern. anyway, are you still willing to travel with me?"

[Darkness Eternal]

Women will be women. And the Thalmor will be Thalmor. A potent mix when those two clash into a single, cohesive threat. Vaultren at first figured the young Altmer woman was a regular tavern wench, wishing for the touch of a strapping Imperial man to share a bed. Of course, he suspected she wished to take advantage of him for his gold.

Yet that simply wasn't the case. It never was. Ever since he was an adolescent boy, he had troubles with women of the opposite sex. Of course, most of the times they were not making an attempt to slice his throat open. Sasfiel, as lovely as her warm body and jaw-dropping man-hood raising looks were, was nothing more than a Thalmor lackey in his eyes. For a number of years now the Thalmor wished to take his life...he only saw it nescessary that he would repay a favor.

The fall of Naarifin was an outlawed song, banned by the snobby Golden-rods. Vaultren saw a good chance in raising awareness. While he was not granted the pleasure of music to his ears, he was given a heated delights in the darkness of his room with a foxy woman, even after her last breath was exhaled. He was sure someone must of reported him, or Sasfiel was already onto him from the start. Perhaps a cell in Skingrad informed them of his departure to Chorrol, giving Sasfiel a heads up on his arrival.

Morning already breached the land, painting the sky in a faint blue. The sun was risen as well, painting Vaultren's warm body under its rays. He threw away the devoured green apple as he briskly walked off into the distance with the sack on his shoulders. He did not know if it was wise to leave without bringing the Altmeri scholar and that Dunmer healer along with him. But how much could they be of service? They would smply point fingers and label him as a murderer. He did not care much, for whatever chance he could get at the Thalmor, he would. He knew a few individuals named Vaultren in Skyrim, ones who supported the Empires...ones who could serve as perfect scapegoats if properly made to dance. Who would take the fall while he has a chance to strike once more. But excluding those people, he had a gnawing feeling that he would see Kogobal and Alvara once more, or even the traveling Breton.

[Uleni Athram]

In a span of one minute, Celdryn's rented room was stripped clean of his possessions. The Breton's fast hands and faster mind made sure that there were no traces of his existence. Likewise, Celdryn the Bard is no longer in this world. Instead, with his brown cloak shielding his face from light, and all geared up for the death-thrill he always enjoyed, Celdryn the Rogue replaced the mediocre singer. That facet of his identity is now erased, and he returned to his former self. His beating heart, the wardrum instrument that pumped his body full of the adrenaline sweetness, was the testament of how he relished the return. The green stare sweeped across and verified that it was as it should be, sans the marks of Celdrn ever living in here. With the safeness of Wicked and Delight near his reach, the Rogue made his way towards the room's window and surveyed the alley below. A little pond of dirty water and supreme darkness; little light penetrated the dark gloom, not enough to actually reflect the orichalcum metal of his sacred twins. The screaming of Tal'Jhiro, and the general reactions of the crowd would mask the fall if it would be noisy.

It wasn't.

He made sure to close the windows before he jumped down.

In the sanctuary of the shadows, Celdryn became a clump that blended well with the blackness that surrounded him, that shielded him, and he begun to think. As much as he wanted to just run and eschew the rules of being incognito (and therefore lay upon himself the eyes of the law and possibly the Thalmor, which was a tremendous bonus for his thrill-drunk mind), the rational part of his mind glowed brighter than his desire for excitement and he sat there in the blackness, thinking and thinking and thinking. He never was much of a thinker, so he decided upon the simple plan of going to Skyrim under the cover of nighttime.

He then noticed that he no longer was alone. Quietly as he could, he drew Delight and bent to crouching position, ready to leap and drive this sword straight through this intruder's -

It was Alvara and Kogobal, and Celdryn found himself relieved that it was them and not the local watch. They didn't seem to notice him and carried on with their conversation. When he eavesdropped upon the two elves, and found that they too are willing to escape the games of politics, or atleast the city. He emerged from the blackness, soft in sound, not caring that he eavesdropped or how suprising his sudden entrance may be.

"The Imperial from yesterday, the one with the noble features, is Vaultren. I can't scarcely believe that we shared the night with a former Penitus Oculatus. And to warrant such aggressiveness from the Thalmor! I don't know what he did in the past, nor do I want to, but it must be a heavy sin against the elves for them to even send an assassin after 30 years of peace! Regardless, what sir Kogobal said is true. The Thalmor are vengeful elves, and do not care for life. They would trample innocents willingly if it meant capturing what they want. I would bet against the chance of them simply questioning us and letting us go scot free."

He gave a rueful grin.

"Some of us aren't exactly saints, after all. But regardless, I vote with master Kogobal that we flee the city. I know not where your destinations are, but I am headed for Skyrim. Until we part, I suggest we stick together. The innocents must stand with each other, and there is strength to be found in numbers."

[Colonel Mustard]

Alvara and Kogobal's brief flight took that out of the tavern and into the anonimity of a nearby alleyway, a patrol of watchmen in chainmail clanking past them a moment later as they headed for the tavern itself. Alvara could see already why Kogobal wanted to get away so quickly; with the state of hysteria the tavern was in, fingers would quickly point to outsiders, especially Elves, and if they were lucky they might spend days in a cell. If they weren't, they would probably never leave the town at all.

Breathless and shocked, Kogobal explained about a note he had found, saying that the murdered girl was a Thalmor assassin, dispatched after Vaultren who was himself a Penitus Oculatus agent. Alvara's eyes widened at that last statement, and in reply to Kogobal's statement she said; "Even if I wasn't willing, I'm not sure I'd have all that much choice. But Vaultren was the Imperial we were talking to last night, Kogobal, the one who went off with the High Elf girl; she must have been sent after him. If we meet Vaultren again, it might be a good idea to be careful. Or wise to maybe steer clear; if he has Thalmor after him we'd do well to not get involved."

She shivered at the thought that the man she had been conversing with had been able to kill another person in so savage and grisly a manner, even if that person was a servant of an oppressive, brutalistic regime. A figure suddenly stepped into view from the far end of the alleyway and Alvara whirled to see who it was; it was the Bard, Celdryn, and she relaxed her stance as she realised who he was.

No doubt thinking that they were ignorant of the note, Celdryn did not bother with introductions and instead gave an explanation of what had happened with Vaultren. He added that he was planning to go to Skyrim, to which Alvara nodded.

"Kogobal found the note marking out Vaultren for what he is," she said. "And we were planning to go to Skyrim in any case. We'd do well to stick together, seeing as there's strength in numbers."

She glanced out of the mouth of the alley, where the guards were beginning to calm the panicked crowd.

"It would be best to go now," she said. "Before someone points us out and decides that we're to blame."

[jack cloudy]

Kogobal

"That was Vaultren?" Kogobal said as Alvara made the grand reveal.
"And here I thought I was being paranoid by thinking he might be a common roadbandit." He then muttered to himself and shook his head.

Before either could discuss their plans any further, a shadow set upon them. Kogobal followed Alvara's turn, instinctively drawing the base form of all his anchors in his mind. Fortunately however, the figure revealed himself to be the bard. Not one to waste time with introductions as usual, he repeated Alvara's confirmation regarding Vaultren's identity and agreed on the common decision to flee the city as soon as possible.

"It is good to have you with us, sir Minan'Kherus." The Altmer said with a relieved nod towards the man.
"Your presence here is one worry off my chest. But speaking of fleeing." He continued talking, meanwhile edging back to the edge of the alley to peer at the still growing crowd. Alvara was right, it wouldn't take much longer for someone to notice them.

Kogobal ducked his head back into the shadowy alley and spread his arms.
"It just occurred to me when you arrived, sir. We could leave through the gates but then the guards posted there would remember us. It just so happens however, that I have an anchor placed beyond the sight of Chorrol, just off the road. Are any of you familiar with the old art of intervention perchance? I could get us out of here without anyone seeing, or even having to walk a single step. I do need your coöperation though." Kogobal explained and already reached out for the two as if he was certain of their consent. It seemed like the most logical plan of escape to him. Why would they refuse?

[Uleni Athram]

Celdryn grinned and whistled in admiration. The kind of magic Kogobal wielded was certainly rare in this age, where even the simplest form of teleportation is considered a great aid. The books Celdryn read back in his childhood contained a book which had some list of the deeds of the Septim Emperors. If memory serves right, then it was Uriel Septim VII, coincedentally the main factor why the Crisis started, that banned the use of such magicks. Celdryn was sure that in other parts of the Empire, without the hunting eyes of the Imperial Law, many covens practiced the art and passed it down to the generations in an effort to atleast preserve such wonderful sorcery. That brings the point that Kogobal is not a native Cyrodillian. Not that he was suprised though.

"You're certainly quite the mage," Celdryn said, sarcastically sweet. "What's next? A spell that gives all of us immortality and an immunity to diseases? I really wouldn't be suprsied if you know anything of the sort, sir."

The crowd of onlookers were certainly becoming quite the horde. Alvara the Dunmer was right. It wouldn't take long for someone in there to point out to the guards the conspiracy of three suspicious-looking individuals in an alley, just right beside a building where a crime took place. And then he realized that he hadn't much time speaking with her yesternight. He promised to make as they make their way to the north, to Skyrim.

"Au revoir, mon petit Chorrol! We shall now teleport away to someplace exotic, and I bid you goodbye!"

The Breton then placed his hand to Kogobal7s reaching one, and instantly felt the knowldege of an ancient in the wrinkly flesh. Whoever he was, Celdryn had the feeling that this was a man on quest that would really be a never-ending search for something. He gave it a firm hold, like a child holding his parents for protection. He couldn't help himself. This was a new experience, and it should guarantee a worthwile memory to look back upon. Celdryn felt his pulse quicken, but not in the smae amount he got during his flirtings with death and troule.

"Go on then. Magic us away like one of thise romance novels. Heheh, I'll give you extra points if we arrive in a field full of roses where the sun always shines and there is a fair maiden, alongside a hairy bear, waiting for us."

[Colonel Mustard]

Intervention and teleportation; despite the situation, Alvara could not help but feel impressed at what Kogobal knew of such arts. They were ancient magics, no longer studied legally, exceedingly difficult to learn even in their day; the only place she had known them to be possible were the few magical theory books that she had picked up here and there, and even then all they could offer on the subject was postulation and theory as to how a mage could harness such energies.

She made a mental note to ask if she could learn such arts with her own talents from Kogobal at some point in the future, but decided that such things would have to wait for the future; the crowd outside the tavern was swelling, and she feared that there had been one or two glances in their direction.

Alvara placed her hands on top of Celdryn's said; "No point wasting any more time; let's go."

[jack cloudy]

Kogobal

He threw one last glance over his shoulder, half expecting an angry mob to bear down on their location. Nobody showed in the alley though. Kogobal turned back to his companions, taking their hands firmly in one of his while the other held the staff. He refocussed on the weaves of his spell and shifted into a trance.
"Indeed, let us be off." He murmured and then began to chant, slipping into the Dunmeri tongue as he formed the old mantra.

"Doors unbuilt and keys unforged I seek. Paths untrod and destinations uncharted I seek. The eye is the door, the mind the key. Cast now my flesh part of this world. Cast now my bone part of this world. Cast this world, part of my flesh, part of my bone." The knot took form. Kogobal took one end in his mental hand and pulled, unraveling the knot, drawing it from the bush to the alley.
"Strand of wisdom's hair is my chart, tongue of ancient dreams my feet. Out of memory I forge the key, with memory I open this door. Door to nowhere, door to everywhere. I step through, look up, and here I am."



Kogobal opened his eye to see a berryposessing bush that shielded them from the road. Trees hid them from the walls of Chorrol, whose stone he could see through the gaps. A bird whistled its song from somewhere nearby. He nodded to himself and spoke, in Cyrodiilic.
"And here we are. I have to admit it was a bit harder than usual. Conservation of mass and all that."

He took a habitual look at his staff then waved it in the direction of the road.
"Well then, shall we?"

[Darkness Eternal]

The Imperial pondered on whether or not his murder of the Thalmor was efficient. He knew soon the hunt would be on for her killer, and the hounds of the Dominion would be snarling after his scent. The two Mer that saw him in the tavern knew who he was, and his identity. But then again, it did not matter, as the Thalmor would suspect he was responsible from the beginning in the light that he was a target. His calculating mind began to plot his next steps. He admitted, it was a foolish act to even exchange words with the tavern goers, but he did not expect an assassin would make an attempt on his life.

Vaultren dwelled on it, cautious that he would drive himself mad. Why would he attack the Thalmor? Because they were too firm in their ways; far too inflexible to adapt. And who else would brave the Thalmor? Very few. But he could take on them, one by one, as time went by. Where strength failed, he would make up for in guile. Vaultren figured he could escape to Skyrim by horse, and reach there much earlier than he would by foot. And so he awaited, as the shadows under the tree. To his chagrin, there was no wagons or carts passing by, no men or women on horseback. Yet, he remained there, occasionally continuing his path along the road under the growing sun.

Though as he went on, his ear captured a strange sound. It was familiar, but yet, it was alien as well. It was the music of the arcane energies surrounding the mundane realm. Vaultren stayed his position, spotting three figures along the road away from the town of Chorrol.

He hid behind a tree, peeking through the corner. It did not take long for him to realize that the trio were all too familiar to his eyes; Kogobal, Alvara and Celdryn. He did not expect to see the Breton again, but he admitted it was unexpected to see all of them. Do they know what I have done? Perhaps. Would they understand? Vaultren took his hand to the hilt of his sword. They better understamd. And so he walked toward their direction, his step confident, his face a cold neutral expression. Though he was hidden along the trees, away from the road. He awaited until he got closer.

Stepping away from the trees, his presence might of been of a surprise to them rather than an annoucement. He intercepted them from the side, stepping away from the shrubs as he approached the three of them. "It is a surprise to find you here. The three of you. It warms my heart to see esteemed company ready to embark on our quest. I suppose in numbers, our traveling conditions will be less taxing."

This post has been edited by Darkness Eternal: May 26 2012, 04:27 AM